The Wrong Choice
by moonshadowASJ
Summary: A VERY short story written for a challenge. Can the wrong choice really be the right one? Find out Kid's motivation for his choice.


**THE WRONG CHOICE?**

Feet braced slightly apart, blue eyes staring straight ahead, his arms hanging by his sides and all of his concentration focused in front of him, he let the cacophony of noises that surrounded him fade away, until all that remained was a distant hum. He was uncertain what to do next. He'd already made one wrong choice. He'd have to be careful.

"Two wrongs don't make a right."

The words kept ringing in his head as he inhaled a deep breath and released it slowly._I'm pretty sure Grampa Curry's the one who told us that._ _If I'm wrong again, it'll be the second time an'...but what if I make what I think is the right choice - an' it still ends up bein' the wrong one?_

Did that mean the right choice was really the wrong one? There just didn't seem to be any right answer; he heaved another deep sigh as he strove to make it all make sense.

If he made a choice and it was the right one, then he'd win. But what if he made his choice and it was the wrong one? He'd lose! It was as simple as that, yet it was also as complex as that. _What was he to do?_

"C'mon - just pick one!" an urgent voice hissed near his left shoulder, "The odds are fifty-fifty; either you're right or you're wrong!" Filled with its owner's impatience, the voice fell silent as it waited for a decision to be made.

"It's **MY** nickel," he hissed back, "so I can take as long as I wanna!" Irritated at the interruption, he returned his attention back to the task at hand and sighed once again; he was back to square one. _Which of the remaining cups was the pea hidden under?_

He reached out his right hand towards the two cups; it wasn't certain which cup he was going to choose until he got closer, then right before he lowered his hand he heard the voice again. This time it whispered, "NO - not _that_ one; it's the _other_ one - trust me!"

Pulling his hand back, Jed let his head drop and gave a silent groan. _He hated it when Han said that - it usually meant there was trouble ahead. It wasn't that he didn't trust the older boy's judgment, it was, well, it was jus' that things never quite went the way they oughta when his cousin spoke those words._

And, Han had now made the situation even more complicated. _If I don't choose the one he thinks is right an' I end up bein' wrong, Han's gonna be crowing 'bout it for days; he'll rub it in that he was right an' he'll never let me live it down! _ But worse than that, beneath all the ribbing, Jed knew that he'd hurt the other boy's feelings because he hadn't trusted him.

_But what if I chose the one that Han thought was right, an' that choice ended up bein' wrong? _He'd lose both his hard-earned nickel _**and**_ the prize! _An' Han would be feelin' pretty miserable. When Han was miserable, he wasn't much fun, an' they were there to have fun, so..._

_Was there a right choice?_

The sandy-haired boy slowly stretched out his right hand once more, until it hovered above the cups. Lowering his hand, he wrapped his fingers aroundhis choice and closed his eyes. He lifted the cup.

There was a collective gasp from the crowd of curious onlookers that had gathered around to watch the outcome of the game, followed by of muttering, mumbling and head shaking.

"Better luck next time, Kid," a hand patted him on his shoulder.

The familiar voice coming from behind him sounded a bit smug, but Jed reckoned he'd allow that; at least this way _**he**_ was the one that had made the 'wrong' choice. Things would be better in the long run. Han wouldn't feel responsible for steering him in the wrong direction and they could finish the day in good spirits. He turned to face his best friend with a grin.

"C'mon, I'll race ya to the candy apples - loser has to buy!" As he took off at a run, dodging effortlessly around the other fairgoers, Jed knew his cousin wouldn't be _too_ far behind. He also knew there wasn't anything wrong with his choice _**this **_time, either. He could already taste victory..._**and **_the candied apple!


End file.
